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WARNING! This warning is possibly not needed dyke for this particular story, but I am including it because it is needed for most of my stories. If you decide to read other of my stories make sure that you read the disclosures and warnings at the beginning of each story. All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop lesb reading immediately and move to lesbo somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2018 by The Technician. Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. Stan Satanowski stepped out of the state of the art spray tanning booth in his basement. It was a computer-controlled, fully-automatic model and should have cost much more than he could possibly afford, but he had gotten it basically for free. Free is a relative term. In this case, it meant that when he accepted a contract to clean up and remodel a space in a local strip mall, he agreed to store any and all equipment currently in the store for a period of two years. The previous tenant ran a beauty shop called “Momma Ling’s” that offered everything from hair styling to nail treatments to spray tans to drugs– yes, drugs. Evidently the beauty business wasn’t paying enough so Momma Ling– real name Cynthia Davidson– branched out into various prescribed and non-prescribed opioids. Unfortunately, Cynthia hadn’t done sufficient research on possible mature lesbian competition and one of the Lesbian local neighborhood suppliers expressed their displeasure at her intrusion into their sales strap-on lesbian territory by shooting up the place and the people inside. In an amazing display of accuracy for street gangs, there was one and only one fatality, Cynthia “Momma Ling” Davidson. Two customers were injured by flying glass and one received a minor bullet wound in the leg, but Momma Ling’s Beauty Shop and Drug Emporium was permanently closed. The lesbo two were completely enveloped by their lust, but also by the feeling of being around each other. Robert had some concerns about this plan but went along with it. Her breasts had grown in size and rose prominently from her chest, like twin melons. I felt myself bottoming out pressing up against her cervix. I try to struggle, but it’s hopeless. Bandits were seldom a challenge any longer. He was too young and determined and, hey, stupid. She took her small fingers and lifted it up, then pushed it down, watching it spring back up. mature lesbian I didn’t cry out, or scream. As she crossed the living-room she was relieved to see that Tim's friends were still passed out on the couch. I massaged her bud as she gasped out in delight. I was still on the adrenalin high when the operator young man showed us the photographs. I pulled out and paused for a moment. Natalie clasped her hand to her mouth to smother a laugh, for fear of waking Pakpao. She was sat relaxing back in strap-on lesbian the chair, her hips pushed forward almost to the edge of the seat, her cock pointing straight up towards the ceiling, the pale length twitching eagerly, her balls drawn up tight underneath. Nervous and scared, I replied truthfully, “No.” Of course, I also fondled them with my dyke hands. Here was an almost-stranger in my flat, asking me to go over the road and fuck her friend, and she was about to have a sneak preview of my cock for her own amusement. I loved swirling my tongue around in her depths while she wiggled back into me. The sounds lesb of the crowds around us faded away as I enjoyed her juices trickling down my chin, her spicy musk filling my nose. Your son. Well done! “Yes, yes, yes!” Ruri moaned. When I ejaculated, I got my sperm with my fingers and jammed it inside Rose's mouth. She always told him they were people from her, job. "Jack?" she said once again as to his horror, his Lesbian bedroom door opened, and his sister walked in on him wanking his spurting cock. I said that we are certainly willing to work around their college schedules. His pleasure would be my thanks. “Mrs. Taylor, you're such an amazing teacher,” groaned Lance. I...” His words came out slow, slurred. He continued to taunt me. Mom kept glancing at us, her tits jiggling with the car's vibrations. "Let's find you a home, shall we?"